


Addicted to Love

by Miss_Black_Fox



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dorian is a dumb peacock, Dorian rides the Bull, Library Sex, M/M, kinkmeme prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 19:47:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3353141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Black_Fox/pseuds/Miss_Black_Fox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kinkmeme Prompt: </p><p>Dorian and Iron Bull have been "something" for a while now and Dorian finally realizes he has fallen in love with Iron Bull. The problem is, he knows that Iron Bull is with him for the sex and he is a flirt so he will probably get bored of him soon, plus he's a Qunari that follows/followed the Qun and they don't believe in love.</p><p>So, he tries to break off their arrangement to spare himself more pain...except Iron Bull actually loves him back and he's horrified.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Addicted to Love

**Author's Note:**

> Help, I have accidentally gotten myself caught up in kinkmemes again and I can't get up. But seriously, the kinkmemes are the best thing ever. I love to be apart of them and write for all the amazing prompts. 
> 
> My smut writing is a little rusty so any constructive criticism would be welcome!

He should have gone back to Tevinter.

Dorian lay awake on his bed. No, not his bed, the bed he shared with Iron Bull. Their bed. The hulking Qunari took up most of it, and lay flat on his back, arms splayed out. In the crook of his arm at the edge of the bed was Dorian, head half rested on a pillow and Bull’s thick forearm. He didn’t mind the small space. Bull was comfortably warm, almost too warm under the thick blanket Dorian insisted on using. They were close, and that’s all that mattered.

And it shouldn’t. Maker it shouldn’t matter that Dorian wanted to sleep curled against Bull. He shouldn’t feel _safe_.

As quiet as he could manage, Dorian slipped from the covers. Bull stirred. Dorian paused at the edge of the bed, one foot barely touching the floor. Bull didn’t wake. Dorian crept to the end of the bed to blindly put on his boots in the dark of the room. He knew his way to the door and thanked the Maker it didn’t creak.

The mage walked into the lofty halls of Skyhaven. Deep shadows lined the walls and corners of pillars. Shadows made of tar. Seemingly endless. Dorian felt as though he could vanish into its folds.

Maker curse the cold, southern air. Dorian wished he had grabbed his cloak from his things. He huffed, like it would do anything against the chill in Ferelden which soaked into his clothes like humidity on the Storm Coast. He continued on to the library, the book-lined room marginally warmer than the hall.

Dorian found himself drawn to his favorite chair and sank into the plush cushion. He wasn’t sore or dirty from sex. That night Dorian came into Bull’s room and Bull did not tie him to the bedpost, or dirty talk him. No sex at all. Dorian’s heart throbbed in pain. That is what their relationship was, nights tangled in limbs, Bull’s deep voice as he described every dirty thing he was going to do with Dorian. The two entangled till the morning, filthy with sweat and cum.

He would claim to hate it, and complain of the smell, but secretly loved it. Bull most know of it, the insufferable man knew everything about Dorian.

When Dorian went into the familiar room, Bull smiled and pulled the smaller man into his lap.

“I came across something I think you’d like,” Bull said, and the Qunari twisted around, mindful of his horns, to grab a satchel beside the bed. Dorian’s heart fluttered. Bull had gotten him a gift? Dorian’s fingers traced the satchel, and knew that there was a book inside.

“Oh goodie, a new book. Let me guess, a history of the Qun? Horn care? Or perhaps one of Varric’s savory bedroom tales?” Dorian said. He wouldn’t admit it, but he felt his heart thump in excitement. Iron Bull understood him better than anyone else in the Inquisition. Dorian pulled out the back and stared at the blank cover. The pages were faded yellow, the book binding worn and frayed at the edges. A very old book.

“Open it and find out,” Bull rumbled, his lips on Dorian’s neck.

Dorian held back a shudder as he thumbed through the first few pages. He didn’t recognize the writing right away, he looked closer andfound the letters familiar. This was an old, impossibly old Tevinter book. “This is. . .” Dorian floundered to recall his old lessons in Ancient Tevene. “It’s the old tongue.”

Iron Bull smiled into Dorian’s neck, “My sources told me that this book holds a collection of stories around the various places in the Imperium. They didn’t know much more than that being unable to read it.”

Dorian eagerly flipped through the book, and only slowed when in his haste he accidently pulled a tear on a page near the bindings. It was slow work translating, but he found a lengthy and detailed description of Minrathous. The image painted in words lay superimposed over Dorian’s memory. The old above the new. For centuries the city had changed, but in many ways stayed the same.

Iron Bull pulled Dorian deeper into his lap, “It’s just like the ‘vints to have a language that looks as flowery as it sounds,” he teased.

Dorian rolled his eyes at the remark and pointed to the passage, “Whoever your ‘sources’ are, they were right and wrong. It is a collection of places from ancient Tevinter. A true account, not stories.” Dorian flipped forward through the pages, here the book talked of the city’s defenses. “This is. . .remarkable, Bull.”

“I thought you would like it,” Bull said, like the book were a trinket picked up at a common market. Dorian shook his head, but continued to read through the pages. With prodding from Bull, he read aloud, first in Tevene, then in the common tongue. They sat together, Dorian nestled against Bull for hours. He read until his words were interrupted by yawns.

Bull pulled the book from Dorian to set it on the bedside table, and pulled Dorian against him. Dorian closed his eyes, but sleep didn’t come. After several minutes Bull fell fast asleep, his breathing even, while Dorian listened to the Qunari’s beating heart.

The mage thought he couldn’t sleep from the jittery excitement that filled him when he read from the book. It occurred to him that they had gone to sleep without sex.

In the library, Dorian took a deep breath through his nose. What did it mean? Bull always wanted sex, and yes, Dorian wanted to too. His mind ran over the night over and over again, and it came to only one conclusion. Bull used the book to distract him. Why the distraction? Because Bull had grown tired of Dorian.

It made too much sense.

Their relationship was a sexual one, each satisfying the other because its convenient. Without Dorian, Iron Bull would have found someone else to take to his bed in the evenings. Some tavern wench perhaps. That part didn’t bother him. That is what he told himself. This was no different than back in Tevinter with affairs in the dark. Used as much he took. The only difference was that he wasn’t hiding here. He didn’t have to hide what he had with Bull.

 _This had to end sooner or later_ , Dorian thought. It always ends one way or another. But so what? Bull is tired of him. Dorian will find someone else, someone human or why not elven? It wasn’t like he cared about appearances (not including physical ones) anymore. If he could have sex with a Qunari then he could have sex with any damn race he wanted.

Drorian curled his fingers across the arm rest. The thought of sleeping with whomever wasn’t as thrilling as he had hoped. It left him. . . empty. Hollow. He could sleep with anyone he wanted but. . . but. . .

They wouldn’t be Iron Bull.

What was he thinking? Dorian stood up in one swift motion and paced the shelves. He didn’t want anyone else. He wanted Bull. There it was again! Like a fly that buzzes around his ear, the thought and those like it continued to return no matter how many times he brushed them away. Bull is a tease, a flirt, but never demanding of what Dorian wasn’t comfortable with. He didn’t simply satisfy Dorian, but took care of him as well, made sure his wrists were care for after being tied.

Dorian seized a book and tried to escape into its pages. There was no escaping his own thoughts, the traitors. They came unbidden, but entirely expected. It came with a rush of heat, with the tightness of anxiety. Unbridled joy wrapped in fear.

He was in love with Iron Bull.

He hissed through his teeth, a pained sound. This shouldn’t happen. _This_ started with an ill conceived night after drinking. A fling to see if the Qunari really meant all his flirting and talk of _conquering_. And they kept going from there. No talk of relationship, they didn’t need it. Dorian didn’t believe for a moment that they would.

Stupid, how stupid he’s being. This has to end. Bull is pulling away and he should too before he lets himself slip any further into the unknown. Dorian thought of going back to wake Bull and tell him, but that would be too cruel. Why should it? Clearly Bull does not care for their trysts anymore, what would it matter to him?

No, even if Bull did not want to continue, Dorian would not be so heartless. He’ll tell Bull in the morning that their sexual liaison is over. It’ll be clean and quick, like pulling a scab from a wound.

His mind set, Dorian turned to leave the library. Bull stood in the doorway, shirtless and in a loose pair of pants held up by a belt. The Qunari gave Dorian a lazy smile, “Its impossible to keep a ‘vint away from his books.”

“As impossible to keep stench from a Qunari savage,” Dorian spat out. The anger his voice took on shooked him. Bull’s smile faltered. Dorian didn’t want to do this now, but he couldn’t stop. His nerves were pulled taut, live with electricity. Angry that Bull could act so casually when Dorian was but a plaything.

“Dorian. . . are you alright?” Bull questioned. He left the doorway to take a step closer, face full of concern. Dorian turned his back to Bull before he he could read too much into that face.

“Oh, I’m more than ‘alright’. I’m quite dandy!” Dorian threw up his hands and paced along the shelves. “In fact,” he said to the books, “I’m going to be quite alright. Great, even!”

“Dorian,” Bull’s voice was soft, and it wrung Dorian’s heart. Dammit, Bull shouldn’t care so much! “Dorian, please, tell me what’s wrong.”

“This has to end,” Dorian said in a rush of words. He finally turned to Bull to look the man straight in the eyes, “Us. Our nightly trysts. Its over-” He yelped as Bull moved forward and grabbed his shoulders. Dorian tried to squirm away but Bull’s grip was firm. Damn his strength! It brought painful memories of nights held down by those strong hands. The same hands that were always gentle after sex.

“Dorian, what the fuck are you saying?” Bull’s soft voice was gone, replaced by something heavier, rougher.  
Dorian breathed in sharply, eyes wide. He’s never seen Bull like this. His heart raced and his mouth wouldn’t move. Bull gripped Dorian’s shoulders so tightly the mage let out a cry of pain. Bull let go in an instant. Dorian fell to the floor in a heap.

“Dorian, Maker, fuck--I didn’t mean to,” Bull moved to lift Dorian by his arm, and the mage swatted his hand away.

“Get away from me you savage!”

“Dorian. . .”

“I’m not going to be some toy that you throw away when you grow tired of it!” Dorian shouted, loud enough for his voice to break. With one hand on a bookshelf he righted himself and glared at Bull, “I won’t have it, Bull! If I want to be used like this I’d rather go back to Tevinter.”

Bull flinched as though struck. Dorian didn’t wait for a response, and darted around the Qunari to the library entrance. For several moments Dorian thought that he would get through this unhindered. Each step crushed him more than the last. This was his confirmation that to Bull he were a plaything.

Then Bull grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around. “Dorian--”

“I do not wish to hear it!” Dorian snapped, “Now let me go or I’ll--”

Bull silenced him with a kiss. Dorian closed his mouth, resistant. He won’t let Bull sex his way out of this. His shoulders still burned from Bull’s grip. The Qunari didn’t want his toy to be taken away from him.

“Stop this!” Dorian shoved at Bull’s chest, but the Qunari was too large and heavy to move. Bull moved for him anyways. “I’ve said my mind now let me be!”

“No,” Bull growled, “I will not let you be. Not until you let me speak mine,”

Dorian expected Bull to grab him again, but the Qunari didn’t. His steady gaze was focused on Dorian. A heavy, unbearable thing. Dorian felt small before it.

“I don’t know what’s come over you, Dorian. Or what prompted you to do this. If it is something I’ve done then,” Bull softened with concern. His hand lifted to Dorian’s chin and stroke the soft skin there, “Them I am sorry. For whatever it is I’ve done. But I won’t let you end this.”

“And why not?” Dorian said with as much rage as he could muster, but his voice still faltered. _Damn it Bull! Why are you making this so hard?_

Bull leaned in till their foreheads touched, “Because I love you.”

Dorian bristled, “You don’t _love_ Bull. There is no love in the Qun. And it was you who said love is all, what was it? Starlight and blushes? Roses and giggles? That hardly applies to either of us.”

Bull growled, a deep rumbling sound that sent a rush of heat through Dorian. He cursed his reaction. “I love you with a passion you dumb, beautiful peacock.”

“Peacock?!” Dorian blustered before Bull’s words really hit him. “Wait. . . you. . . you really mean that, don’t you?”

Bull groaned, “Yes, I mean it! Get that through your thick ‘vint skull!” Bull’s mouth covered Dorian’s and the mage melted into it. He was in love with Bull and Bull with him. Dorian shoved Bull back once more. The Qunari looked annoyed, “What is it this time?”  
“It’s that,” Dorian felt heat rush to his cheeks, “I’ve never been in a real relationship before. I’ve always wanted one, I do want one, but I’ve never been able.” He has no experience here, no idea what he’s getting into. But as long as it was with Bull, he’d gladly go into the unknown.

“To be honest,” Bull rumbled, “I’ve never had a serious relationship either.” He placed several kisses along Dorian’s jaw. “It’ll be an adventure for the both of us, eh? You know, this makes much more sense now. You didn’t think I loved you back, so you tried to spare yourself from the pain.”

Dorian was quiet, unsure of what to say. Bull was frustratingly correct. Its part of what he loved about the Qunari. Bull was intelligent, and he wielded that mind like a whip. “I had thought you weren’t interested in me. And we didn’t have sex this night.” Dorian’s blush deepened. He was a dumb, beautiful peacock that jumped too quickly to conclusions.

Bull laughed, deep and throaty. The Qunari swept Dorian into his arms and pushed Dorian’s back to the bookshelf. “I see, you were upset we didn’t have sex.”

“Bull what are you--?”

“I hadn’t thought of your feelings,” Bull nuzzled the side of Dorian’s neck, his scruff brushed against smooth, bronzed skin. Shivers ran down Dorian’s spine, “I shall rectify that.”

“By the Maker, Bull! We’re in the library!”

Bull laughed, “Oh, don’t try to tell me you’ve never wanted to do it on a pile of books.” His hands worked at the belt on Dorian’s waist. The mage wore his sleep clothes (he kept several pairs in Bull’s room. . . just in case) that were far less complex than his magic robes. The top a loose tunic that showed off his shoulders. A favorite of Bull who loved to show his appreciation for Dorian’s shoulders with hickeys.

Dorian flushed as first his pants, then his shirt was divested of him, and he were left in his undergarment. “I would never on books! Not proper books anyways. Chantry drivel would be fine.”  
“I think we’re right at that section, what a coincidence.”

Dorian huffed, his response lost to moans of pleasure. Bull’s tongue dipped into his collarbone, the pointed tip perfect for the little hollow. Bull lapped at the spot, thoroughly wetting it before dragging his attentions down. His tongue circled one nipple, brought it to attention then moved on to the next. Each lick sent a shiver through Dorian, his hands gripped tight to the edge of the shelf before they sought Bull’s horns for stability.

His cock strained against his undergarments. Dorian panted, reached between his legs to free it.

Bull held him with such ease, as though Dorian weighed nothing. A sigh left his lips. Under him, Bull shifted his hold to hold Dorian with one arm, and free the other to divest himself of his pants, then Dorian of his smalls.

“Maker, fuck me,” Dorian sighed out, head thrown back against the book spines. The smell of old pages and Bull’s musk swirled around him.

“Oh, now you want the Maker to fuck you? Only a ‘vint would make such a request,” Bull laughed, and Dorian laughed too. The mage rolled his hips against Bull’s stomach, cock painfully hard between them.

“ _Iron Bull_ , fuck me,” Dorian corrected. He tugged on Bull’s horns to bring the Qunari’s mouth back to his. Dorian brushed his lips over Bulls, took Bull’s lower lip between his teeth, teasing the soft skin. Bull was flush against him. Dorian welcomed the warmth. It was warmth he’ll never be without again.

“Against the bookshelf or in your favorite chair?” Bull questioned. Both possibilities twisted about Dorian’s mind. Each as equally delicious as the other. If against the shelves then everytime he passed them Dorian would remember the feel of book spines against his back. If in his chair, then everytime he would sit in it, Dorian would remember the feel of Bull’s cock buried deep inside him.

“Both,” he moaned, “I choose both,”

Bull sighed dramatically, “Just like a ‘vint to want everything. Your wish is my command.”

Dorian gave a quiet yelp as Bull hefted him up until Dorian’s hips were level with Bull’s mouth. “Bull, you can’t be serious.”

“I am nothing but serious, kadan,” Bull licked the underside of Dorian’s cock, tongue tracing the veins that fanned out. Again and again, from base to tip, Bull worked Dorian’s cock until Dorian was cursing and panting in equal measure. With one final, tantalizingly slow lick, Bull’s mouth wrapped around the head, lips sealed tight around it and sucked.

Dorian panted and moaned above, hands on the shelves for balance. Bull would never let him fall.

Bull worked his way down Dorian’s cock, with each suck he took a little more in, and each time Dorian let out a helpless whimper. Bulls mouth was hot around his cock. Dorian wriggled his hips, urging Bull to go faster. It never worked, and to prove his point Bull pulled up a margin before going back down, slow as ever.

“Ah. . . ah, must you always go so slowly, Bull?” Dorian regretted his words as Bull pulled off with a slick pop.

“Only with beautiful mages. And I’m sure you recall the last time I rushed into things. I had rather liked those curtains, Dorian. The new ones you picked are too fancy.” Bull rubbed his nose against Dorian’s cock, his scratchy beard rubbed against it in the the most painfully pleasing way that had Dorian’s toes curling. “I wouldn’t want you burning down your favorite place.”

“You already taint it with your dirty acts.”

“At least I have a partner in that crime.” Bull took Dorian into his mouth and sucked the mage off until Dorian’s back arched off the shelves and he came with stars flashing behind his eyes. Dorian went limp as Bull brought him down, Dorian’s legs stretched around Bull’s waist.

“Savage,” Dorian breathes, no heat behind his words. Bull carries him to his chair.

“Should I fuck you into your chair or fuck you on my lap?”

Dorian keened softly. Both, he wants both. But there was one he wants more, “Lap.”

Bull chuckled and brushed his lips against Dorian’s ear, “Ah, so you want to ride the Bull?”

Dorian groaned, “That joke is still terrible and you should be ashamed of yourself,”

“Terrible? No! It is a classic.” Bull eased himself into the chair which gave a faint groan of protest.

“I swear if you break my favorite chair. . .” Dorian threatened. Heat pooled into his hands wrapped around Bull’s shoulders.

“Then I’ll fix it. Now keep your legs spread for me. And open your mouth.”

Dorian obeyed without thought, mouth open to Bull’s fingers. Dorian wet them each with his tongue, lapped at the calloused pads. Bull tasted of sweat and leather. A taste Dorian has come to love like the spice of a Fereldan Beer.

Fingers slick with saliva, Bull worked Dorian open. First one finger, than two. He teased Dorian, twisting his fingers just so to brush against Dorian’s prostrate but never stroke it. Dorian whined, hips twisting, grinding down for more until Bull stilled them with one hand.

“I’m ready. . .ah, ah, Bull. Please,” Dorian writhed against the hand that held him still, at the mercy of Bull’s fingers. “I want to _feel_ you inside me.”

Bull scissored his fingers once. Dorian keened, his voice pitched higher. He didn’t want to wait for the third finger. He wanted to feel the burn of Bull’s cock.

“Always so eager,” Bull said, and pulled his fingers from Dorian’s hole. The empty feeling replaced by the head of Bull’s significant cock.

Dorian lowered himself, slow at first. The tip pressed in, the pain near overwhelming. Dorian flexed on reflex and drew a pleasurable hiss from Bull.  
“So tight,” Bull cooed, his hands on Dorian’s hips, but no pressure placed upon them. “Always perfect for me. Always so tight,”

Dorian wrapped his hands around Bull’s horns, his nails just brushing the sensitive skin at the base. Bull let out a groan, his fingers curled against Dorian’s skin.

For all his bluster and haste, Dorian took his time, lowering himself inch by inch onto Bull’s cock, caught in repetition of pain to pleasure. Stretch to comfortable tightness. As he came flush with Bull, both of them were panting, and coated with sweat. Dorian’s legs quivered from the effort of keeping himself raised. But each time he’s faltered, Bull’s hands are there to take the pressure away.

They fall into a steady pace of shallow thrusts and rolling hips. Bull came before long, spilling his seed deep into Dorian’s fucked hole.

Dorian collapsed into Bulls arms, whole body quivering. They lay still for several moments, hearts beating as one. Fast and pounding. Dorian felt like he were afloat in a sea of silver, Bull his anchor.

“Kadan, I love you,” Bull exhaled, reverent like a prayer. Their hands explored the other, stroking, feeling, remembering the feel of their lover to commit it to memory.

Dorian is breathless, too tried to speak or do anything but sink into Bull’s embrace and slip into blissed-out sleep. Bull held him, content to sit as is, Dorian still tight around him. A shadow passed the corner of vision, it darted for the door.

Bull barked a laugh, then dropped his voice when Dorian stirred, “Varric? What are you doing in the library?”

The Dwarf had one foot out the door when Bull caught him. He turned and gave the Qunari a casual smile, “I was doing a bit of writing. Some research when an angry mage and his lover came in to have filthy, smutty sex.”

“Oh? And did it inspire you? You know, for your own smutty novels.”

Varric grinned, “Oh, I’ll have to use that line about the Maker. And I’ll have a whole chapter dedicated to doing the dirty deed in the most hallowed place of learning.”

Bull grinned back, “Be sure to use the word “rippling” when describing me.”

“Ha ha, but of course.” Varric darted off into the dark hallways of Skyhold, and made a personal note to never sit in that library chair again.

As for Dorian and Bull, the mage woke when Bull lifted and carried him to Bull’s room. Their room, and curled together to sleep.


End file.
